


Laundry Day

by i_know_its_0ver



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-23
Updated: 2011-01-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/pseuds/i_know_its_0ver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin likes Arthur's dirty laundry. Arthur likes watching.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day

**Author's Note:**

> pure PWP written for a comment fest. Warnings for voyeurism and explicit sexual content.

Today just wasn’t going well. Arthur had been out training with the knights when a well-aimed blow from one of the newcomers had caught him by surprise, ripping loose one of the straps on his vambrace. Normally he would just send Merlin to fetch a replacement from the armory and continue with his practice. But for some reason the idiot manservant was nowhere in sight, leaving a very disgruntled Arthur to return to his quarters and find _his own_ armor. It was just ridiculous.

Arthur was about to storm into his room and have a very regal pout while thinking up inventive new punishments for his lazy manservant. But he stopped outside the door when he heard muffled noises within. Robbers? Assassins? One could never be too careful. Arthur pushed the door open silently, sneaking into the room and closing it behind him, cutting off the only route of escape.

He didn’t immediately see anyone, and thought maybe the intruders had heard him coming and hid. But no, he could still hear the faint noises. They seemed to be coming from…his bathing chamber? That was odd, what would a thief possible want in there? Arthur tread closer silently, as he had been trained to do through years of hunting. The door was partially closed, but he could see through the open crack. He pulled his small dagger from his belt, held at the ready. But when he peered through the crack he saw…

Merlin. Well, that explained where the lazy oaf had gotten to. Arthur was ready to barge in and rail at Merlin for his incompetence, catch him slacking off so he would get that adorable flustered blush that Arthur so rarely got to see. But something made him pause. What was Merlin doing in his bathing chambers in the middle of the day? And what were those noises he had heard?

Arthur angled himself so he could get a better view, see the front of Merlin instead of just the back of his head. Merlin was sitting on the floor beside a pile of Arthur’s laundry (which should have been washed _yesterday_ , he noted). He was holding a pair of Arthur’s practice breeches, filthy with sweat and grass stains from a previous training session. But what was he…was he…sniffing them? And was he…whimpering?

Oh god. Arthur froze stock still as comprehension dawned on him. He shifted a tiny bit more so he could take in the whole scene. Merlin was holding the breeches to his nose with one hand, and the other was fisted around his cock, stroking lazily. Arthur forgot to breath for a moment as he took in the sight.

Arthur wouldn’t admit it, but he had always noticed that Merlin had a delicate beauty about him, unlike anyone else he had ever seen. And he also wouldn’t admit that he was rather fond of the servant who had become such a friend to him. But he had never thought of Merlin in this way before, as a object of lust. He had never even considered that Merlin might have sexual thoughts and urges like other men. He was just _Merlin_. But now Arthur wondered why he had never thought about it before. He certainly should have.

Because Merlin was gorgeous, his cheeks flushed, beads of sweat rolling down the taut tendons of his neck, those graceful fingers wrapped around his long, thin shaft. The same fingers that dressed Arthur, put on his armor, bathed him…

Arthur’s heart rate was racing now. He knew he should probably put a stop to this. Merlin had no right to be doing what he was doing, it was entirely inappropriate. And yet Arthur couldn’t stop him now even if he wanted to. His own cock was fully hard, pushing uncomfortably against the layers of fabric and chainmail.

Merlin took a deep breath and moaned, a low, throaty sound that Arthur had never imagined him capable of. It sent a jolt of desire straight to his groin, and he had to bite his bottom lip to keep his own voice from betraying him. He watched the way Merlin stroked himself, slowly from base to tip, unhurried, drawing out every sensation. His thumb slid over the head, sliding his foreskin back and forth in the slick precum. It was different from how Arthur handled himself, more languid and sensuous. Arthur desperately wanted to know how it felt.

Before he could think about how very, very _wrong_ it was, Arthur’s hands were on his groin, searching their way under the constricting layers. He had to be cautious so the chainmail wouldn’t jingle and give him away, pulling it aside slowly with one hand and slipping the other beneath. He slid his breeches down just far enough, keeping the chainmail lifted out of the way. The other hand finally found his bare skin, and Arthur stifled a groan of relief.

Arthur tried to keep his strokes slow and long like Merlin’s, wanting to experience the same sensation, so he could pretend that the fingers on him were longer, paler, more slender and graceful. Merlin continued his ministrations, practically huffing into the dirty breeches. He bit down on them to smother a particularly loud moan, and when he released them there was a wet patch from the moistness of his mouth. Arthur nearly lost it thinking about that mouth and what it would feel like inside. He had to pause for a moment to collect himself.

He had never considered sweat or stench to be sexy, it was just a normal, mildly unpleasant part of his days. But seeing Merlin revel in it was one of the most erotic things he had ever seen, God help him. And knowing that it was his scent that was driving Merlin wild made something like possessiveness stir in his chest.

Merlin increased his pace, stroking faster, his fingers closing tighter. He tipped his head back in ecstasy and Arthur watched the long line of his neck, the way his adams apple bobbed when he moaned. He wanted to skim his tongue over it, bite down on it, lavish it with kisses. Good God, how had he never noticed that neck before? Probably because it was usually hidden underneath those damn neckerchiefs Merlin insisted on wearing. Arthur made a mental note to find them all and burn them.

Merlin was stroking in earnest now, his breathing rapid and the moans coming in short gasps. Arthur could tell he was close to the edge, and he wasn’t far behind, matching his pace. Merlin ran his thumb over the head one more time, swirling around the sensitive tip. He came with a strangled cry, Arthur’s name on his lips, sounding like a plea.

Arthur couldn’t believe his ears. His name coming from that gorgeous, pouty mouth, it was too much. He couldn’t hold back a groan as he came hard into his own fist, eyes fluttering shut.

It took a moment for Arthur to recollect himself, to remember how to breathe. And when he opened his eyes he suddenly remembered that he wasn’t alone, that he wasn’t supposed to be here at all.

Merlin was staring at him with wide, panicked eyes, the breeches hastily dropped over his exposed lap, face flushed crimson all the way to the tips of his ears. Maybe it was just the afterglow of his orgasm affecting his brain, but Arthur thought he looked rather adorable like that too.

“Arthur—“ Merlin started, trying to rise into a hasty formal bow, which was made rather ridiculous by his untied pants falling around his knees.

Arthur cut him off before he could make some kind of embarrassing apology. “So,” he asked, as casually as he could while he tucked his own cock safely back within his trousers and picked up one of the dirty shirts to wipe his hand. “Is this why it always takes you so long to get my laundry done?”

Merlin blushed even deeper, if that was physically possible. “I, um, yes?” But Arthur's casual tone seemed to reassure him that he wasn’t going to be executed or sent to the dungeons, and he finally dared to meet his eyes.

“Well let me save you the trouble then; if it’s my scent you’re so fond of, why don’t you just get it from the source? Much more efficient, don’t you think?”

Merlin gaped before quickly grinning. “You know me, all about efficiency,” he replied, and Arthur was glad his cheeky banter was back. It was so much more promising than awkward apologies.

And then the bold brat stepped forward, inches from Arthur’s face, meeting his eyes with a weighted glance. “Speaking of sweaty clothes, it looks like you have some more to add to the laundry. Do you need assistance getting out of them, _sire_?”

Arthur tried to suppress a grin. “Look at you, taking the initiative. You might make a decent servant yet.”

“Oh, shut up, prat,” Merlin chided, before closing the distance between them.


End file.
